Buttery Goodness
by southern cross
Summary: A day is planned and revelations are made over bowls of buttery goodness.
1. Fifteen April

Since the day 'Push' was released it's been one of my favorites and the chemistry and mad inappropriate tension between Nick and Cassie propelled them to the upper echelon of my favorite fandom pairings. Please enjoy and leave me a review. I own nothing and mean no harm.

* * *

There shouldn't have been any doubt.

There shouldn't have been any hesitation.

But he had doubted and he had hesitated and he had almost lost her.

Pushing that thought firmly from his mind he focused in on the room, the poorly positioned furniture, the warm food in front of him; latching onto any distracting object, anything to keep away the thoughts of what might have been.

It crept up on him too often, a warning, and a painful reminded that even with their determination and their abilities they were still mortal. He in no way appreciated his mind's attempt to remind him that he could lose Cassie; enough of that.

They had left the Far East continent behind; he wished it was as simple to leave the memories behind.

For six months they had wandered. After all options had been explored and more than one terrible fight they had decided to move.

Leaving Europe they had headed for North America, had checked out any and every lead pertaining to her Mother that they had stumbled across.

Nothing; a year of dead ends and they had just about exhausted every option.

"I don't get it," she was frustrated Cassie tonight. Her mood swings were as wild and varied as the shades in her hair; he studied her over the bowl of buttered noodles, as she paced the small space between bed and dresser.

Time and practice had left them both far more comfortable with their respective abilities. Absently he Moved the chair out of her way with a flick of his fingers as her footsteps carried her towards the window.

"Nothing, not one little piece of anything," he swallowed the mouth full of buttery goodness and turned in his seat, she was leaning against the glass, eyes looking out over the skyline, but he doubted if she could tell him if it was day or night.

After Carver had died and the power he had held dissipated they had thought it would be simple, naively they had assumed that Division would crumble without their all important syringe and their menacing leader.

Reality had been much more disappointing. Carver had been bad and no doubt his loss had been a hit, but no one had taken the bait, not one representative from Division had stepped up and agreed to make a trade.

"Cassie," he didn't know what he could say this time to make it any better, she turned towards him, eyes expectant. Clearly she wondered the same thing.

He sighed, Moving the chair back to the table, "come eat before the noodles get sticky."

Maybe it hadn't been what she was expecting, maybe she was hungry; either way her eyebrows rose, he counted to what he knew would be a long three, and smirked when she sat down with a huff.

The bowl slid to her new spot, "Thanks."

Kicking her under the table, getting no response, Nick kicked again, this time harder earning an eye roll, "what?"

He grinned around his chopsticks, never mind they were on a new continent, the only way to eat noodles was with sticks, "nothing."

Cassie's smile reached her eyes and he felt the tension leaving his shoulders. She worried too much, Watched too damn hard, and it was getting harder and harder to pull her back when she got close to that edge.

In the past year there had been a time or two he had caught her just before she had conned someone into buying her some Scotch. Those had been bad times, ugly words flying between them.

Cassie knew that bringing up Kira would get his temper going and he knew that mentioning anything to do with a lollipop would drive her nuts.

Popgirl was not to be mentioned around Cassie; not ever.

Nick was self-aware enough to know that he would only bring it up if she pushed him, if she went there first. Kira was harder to avoid, a topic they could tiptoe around and avoid catastrophe, but there were talks of her and then there were the _talks_.

He still didn't know what exactly had happened on the plane, Carver had died, that much he knew. Kira had taken a special delight in telling him that she had played with him a bit before making him pull the trigger, but he had stopped her before she could go any further.

The details were not something he wanted or needed to know, but the child that grieved at the loss of his Dad could appreciate the wicked smile she gave him, if the adult in him was equally repulsed.

Kira hadn't looked at him quite the same after that.

Admittedly Nick hadn't looked the same at her since that night on the roof when he had begged and pleaded for her to remember and she had stared at him blankly.

Carver's Push hadn't worked on him, he didn't know why, hadn't thought about asking Kira; but it had irked him that the Push had worked on her.

Cassie had told him not to hold it against Kira, advice he had taken with a surprised choke of tea; Cassie was in no way Kira's biggest fan. He had thanked her for the sentiment and didn't bother to look when Kira had flitted away after one of their blow-ups.

As much as Cassie had disliked Kira, Kira had absolutely hated Cassie.

Nothing that he had done or said had swayed her and that had just pissed him off.

Jealousy had been at the root of it. That had been unsolicited advice from Searle. Kira was blindly jealous of the connection between him and Cassie; a bond that had only gotten stronger and deeper.

'You're half in love with her already,' Ming had been quite pleased to throw that little tidbit in his face. Nick hadn't had the sense to deny it. It had to have been the shock of throwing him and love and a fifteen year old Cassie in the same sentence.

That was his story and he was sticking to it.

"What do you want to do tomorrow," tomorrow when they were not looking for Division or opportunities for revenge. Tomorrow was going to be a day just for them.

"I don't know," Cassie seemed far more interested in her bowl than in looking at him. Lying little blond, she had something on her mind, something she had Watched and was not sharing.

Dropping his sticks into his empty bowl Nick slid it across the table until it butted up against her bowl. Nothing; he Moved it a little harder.

"What the hell Nick," a splash of buttery goodness had snapped her blue eyes his way.

"Right back at ya Cass," she glared at him, he smirked right back at her, "you gonna share what popped into that pretty little head of yours?"

Her blush spread like wildfire up her neck, his smirk deepened, she was so busted. Did she really think she could pull one over on him after all this time?

Nick had made it his personal mission to know every possible angle of Cassie's lies, misdirection's, and most importantly evasions. When the Popgirl/Tiger story had spilled from her lips one night he had been livid. She could have died, would have had her Mom not interfered; and he had not been there, because she had held out on him.

"We don't hold out on each other remember," he tilted the chair back on two legs stretching his arms upward until a yawn tore through him.

"We're going to go play mini golf," Nick sat up watching her as she Watched tomorrow, "and eat hot dogs with too many toppings, and ride a roller coaster, and take pictures, lots of them," her voice had taken on a dreamy quality and he found his mouth stretching into a smile.

"We are going to have the best damn day ever," Cassie smiled, eyes closed and her sticks fell onto the table as her fingers drummed to a song that only she could hear.

He could maybe in that moment imagine why someone might fall half in love with her.

Blinking once he pushed the thought away ashamed he had gone there and cleared his throat viciously. Cassie jerked back to the present and their eyes met.

"Wanna explain why you were evading?" his fingers drummed anxiously on the Formica table top, her eyes slid to the movement and he saw the confusion and concern flicker across her face.

Another long moment of consideration passed between them. Cassie broke first, crossing her arms and giving him an exaggerated sigh, "sometimes it's just nice to be surprised."

Nick laughed, it was so Cassie, not happy when Watching failed and mad bitter when the Watching hit its mark.

"I'm sure we can spice it up Cass," he stood and grabbed the empty bowls tossing them into the trash; she played with her sticks, idly walking them between her fingers.

"Promise?" he didn't turn around, there might have been a second where he was frozen. Their room shrank in that instant and he was suddenly and acutely aware that there was only one bed.

Cassie had no right to ask him that had no right to put that inflection in her voice, his anger rose up swiftly and fiercely. Ten years, ten fucking years difference; it wasn't fair, he knew it, Searle and Ming knew it, and hell Kira had probably known it.

And if Cassie was starting to realize, well, it just wasn't fair, "Nick?" there was such confusion and longing in that one word, his name, on her tongue, he cursed his luck and hers.

But then he smiled and turned around, giving her his best grin, "Absolutely Cassie, we'll spice things up real good," she considered him, his words, and something must have convinced her of his sincerity because she smiled; heart-stopping and pure he got a good long look at what he shouldn't even be considering.

"Thanks Nick," his stomach knotted up, something was coming, was changing and she knew it and he was starting to know it too; but then it was Cassie, his Cassie and he could never say no to her.


	2. Fifteen November

So when I rushed to upload 'Buttery Goodness' I totally forgot that I had written more to with it. Now my completed one shot has become a multi-shot and I'm not sure where else I'm heading with it. What I do know is that I absolutely love this piece of fic, definitely one of my favorites, and I hope some of you like it too. I own nothing and mean no harm.

* * *

**November**

"NO," he said it with as much authority as he could muster.

Given where they were and what she was considering, it was a hell of lot of authority.

"But-"

Nick cut her off, turning on his heel; he headed out the glass door without further hesitation.

Behind him he could hear Cassie apologizing, asking for more time, and then the door swung shut behind him and her voice was cut off.

Cassie was trying his patience, he knew it and she knew it, and he forced back to the urge to Move the whole damn establishment out of existence.

"Nick," there was uncertainty in her voice, a hint of fear and a whole lot of pleading. Only his Cassie could pour so much into four letters.

A deep breath helped, he felt the power that surged through him taper off, after all the structure hadn't asked that Cassie Watch it.

"A tattoo, Cassie, really?"

Their relationship was strange and strained enough as it was without her asking him for things she had no business considering much less asking for. He could have signed the permission slip without any trouble, the guy behind the counter hadn't looked like the type to ask too many questions, but that wasn't the point.

She was walking and talking, he was half-listening to her rambling explanation. Any second she was going to pull out that damn book and show him what he really, really didn't want to see; she had Watched herself get a tattoo, and he was supposed to take her.

"Cassie," her words continued uninterrupted, "Cassie," he said a little louder, and she stopped short, looking up at him, her gaze had less distance to travel than in previous months and the fact startled him.

Cassie was growing up, literally right in front of his eyes, "It's just weird," her mouth opened, than closed, and once again he surprised her.

"What why?"

Why indeed, because he wasn't her date, ten years remember, and he wasn't her brother, he wasn't even going to go into the why's of that one, and he wasn't even sure he was her friend. They were together because they didn't want to be apart but that didn't mean anything, or it meant everything, and still, "It just is."

There that was all she was going to get from him.

Her arms crossed and he realized he was going to have to come up with a whole lot more.

"You're fifteen," lame but true and it was slightly better than 'because I said so' and much easier than the truth.

Cassie was studying him, her lips were quirked and there was a line forming between her eyebrows, and he knew that she was going to make some revelation far too insightful for her age.

"I told you about this, included you, because I didn't want to go behind your back," and it's a major win for Nick's own Watching skills, "but I am going to get this tattoo."

And Cassie sure was pulling out the big guns, "with or without you."

Nick smirked, Moving her just enough that she slid back a few inches, "I'm pretty sure I could make it hard for you."

The eyebrow rose on cue and he saw her take a deep breath in, she could go either way really, rip him a new one, she certainly had the tongue for it, or Watch him while he was watching her and see how it all played out.

Cassie had gotten much better at Watching on demand and he resigned himself to Vaseline and saran wrap. A split second before she made her decision he made his, "so Ink huh?"

He smirked when her words failed her, "Let me see," he flicked his fingers at her bag, knowing that whatever design would be scribbled in her precious notebook.

"Uh," she dug through her bag; it was a big bag today, a garish mint green with random splashes of color that made him a touch dizzy. There was no reason for any one to carry around that much stuff.

After an amusing fifteen seconds Cassie withdrew her Moleskin notebook, he had picked one up for her in Chicago on a whim and she had fallen in love with the binding and pages, 'no more black spiral' she had sworn.

With a smile he took the book out of her hand, in a considerably better mood, his smile turned into a grin and she frowned, "Why are you so interested now?"

He flipped through to the last filled in page, "Just curious to see what I'm going to be getting," the words had dropped from his lips without permission.

"WHAT!" Nick was pretty certain that the look on her face, a mixture of shock and horror, was going to be worth some Ink.

"There's no way in hell that guy," he pointed the little book at the glass door, "is marking you before he marks me," at ease with his decision and not a little bit excited he examined what she had drawn..

Unexpectedly his chest tightened, the significance of what she had she Seen of what her future self had chosen hit him in the gut, his eyes flicked up to her face. Cassie was quite interested in the cracked pavement beneath her booted feet, his eyebrows rose as the shock of the choice settled.

Shutting the book, he carefully wrapped the band around the cover and handed it over to her, their eyes met as her hand met leather, their fingertips touching briefly.

"So a lotus blossom huh?"

She shrugged, mortification clear on her face, and he rocked back on his heels. Cassie loved to play grown-up to his tight-ass, well she in for a surprise, "I like it."

Her eyes widened, his continued ease at the upcoming event unsettling her, he smirked, "Have you thought about where you are going to get it? Location is important; you know how much it hurts and how long it lasts, that all depends on where you get it."

Freaking her out was proving to be more fun than he would have thought, she was clearly waiting for him to flip out, maybe grab her over his shoulder, as he had done on more than one occasion and stomp them back to their shit hole hotel; not tonight.

"Um," Cassie without words was a rarity.

"I think your wrist might be good choice," he pointed at her right hand, he didn't know why he pointed to the inside of her wrist, but it felt like the right place, he Moved the bracelets that covered the pale skin.

It didn't matter where they were or what the weather was, she never tanned and he always did; it was the way of things.

And that look, the one she was throwing at him, that was the way of her Watching unfolding. He must have brought the location from a Watch to the Real.

"So the wrist huh, like I said location was everything and that's a good one," he considered where he wanted his toyed around with a couple of ideas, thought about asking her to Look for his but decided not to press his luck, it was possible she might implode from his acceptance.

Slapping his hands together, she jumped about a foot in the air, his smirk deepened and he bit back the smart ass comment.

She really wanted an explanation, really wanted to know what had brought about the 180 in his attitude, but Cassie was doing as much lip biting as he was. Maybe she was afraid if he explained himself he might talk himself out of it, which was a very real possibility, or maybe she was a little bit afraid of another reason he was being so accommodating; a reason he didn't even want to consider in his own head.

It was an early birthday present; she would be sixteen in a month, or really month and a half, but who was counting (which was total bullshit since he counted off every day in his head) regardless, he was sticking with his story.

Without another word Cassie followed him back into the tattoo parlor, looking no happier than she would be on her way to meet Division agents and he couldn't help the laugh that was building and hiding it behind a rather obnoxious cough that drew both her sharp eyed look and the artist's curious one.

"Sorry, frog in my throat," how had he not found the fun in this before? Cassie could sure come up with some hair brained schemes. Some that had nothing to do with the big picture and others that could change the whole color scheme and every time he played the role of Devil's Advocate.

Shooting down the idea, reworking it until it was practical or safe or comprehensible, that was how they worked. And he had to admit that he got a sort of pleasure in their debates, but nothing it seemed, to what Cassie got out of it. She loved arguing her point, fighting to get her way was her way, and by simply going along he had thrown her for a loop.

Huh, it was so brilliant he snickered to himself wishing he had had this epiphany ages ago, most especially that one night in Vancouver.

"You know what you want," they were walking side by side behind the pierced man, who looked over his left shoulder with his question.

Nick smiled, "I want that," he waved to the open page in the notebook Cassie held, "here" with his left index finger he pointed to the inside of his right bicep, that spot would hurt like a bitch but it was where he felt it should go.

There he went again with the Watching, Cassie choked a little on her breath and he rolled his eyes, wishing, not for the first time that his Dad had told him anything about his Mother, like her name (Rebecca was the one he had used since he had realized he didn't know it) to her abilities (he was fairly certain she was a Watcher, at times like this, or a Pusher, like that night on the roof) but wishes were like questions and he had too many and not enough time.

Sinking into the worn red plastic he extended his right arm, tucking his left arm under his head, "you don't have to do this." Cassie whispered into his ear, he turned his head to the left and grinned at her.

"It's OK Cass," there was more he could have said but didn't because they didn't say those things to each other. They would get their tattoos, his mixed in with garish pinks and blues, his choices; significant colors if he were one notice such things, she was one to notice though and the noticing was bringing unshed tears into her big blue eyes, but they wouldn't speak any more on the subject.

Cassie stared intently at the artwork bleeding into his arm and he studied her as she did so.

Not how he expected to spend the evening, not even close, but then she bit down on her lip when the gun bit in deep and he couldn't help the grimace.

The blue eyes turned on him, concern and curiosity mixed in them, and took his goddamn breath away.

Not a bad way to spend the evening.

(Not that he would ever, ever admit the blue eyes stayed with him as long as the Ink would.)


	3. Sixteen March

I cannot let this pairing go. I love them too much. Please enjoy and let me know what you think. I own nothing and mean no harm.

* * *

**Sixteen March**

"This is getting really old," Cassie moaned as they opened a door into another crappy motel. More eyes were on them the nicer the places where they stayed; so they avoided any place that might have regular maid service.

They had spent Cassie's birthday in New York, both of them had enjoyed the vibe of the city, with so many people there really had been safety in numbers for them. Money had driven them out, they had little, and their avenues of funding were better served in a city with less security. Even with so many people the cops and cameras were everywhere.

By accident they had ended up on a boat, in the Mid-Atlantic; Nick had been looking for work in the heart of Chesapeake country, a little legal work until they figured out where to go. Crab boats were looking for hands and Nick had signed up.

Crowley was a miserable old man, but Nick didn't let the surly attitude get to him, work was work. So Crowley yelled and cursed and steered while Nick hauled crab pots over the side and set the bait lines; it was a match made in heaven.

All had been going fairly well, well enough for them, Cassie had been confident that her visions were leading up to something. Meditation had seemed to help and Nick knew she spent hours perched on the single bed they shared in the pay by week motel off the highway. He had worried at first at the obsessive edge to her methods, but relaxed when she had promised him no alcohol not if she could break through this way.

So he left her to it and she had left him to the river.

And then she had shown up unexpected and shaved a year off his life, "God Cassie what is it?"

The sun hadn't even considered rising yet, the boat left by three thirty each morning, and she had appeared on the dock with wide eyes and shaky hands.

Nick had known Crowley was watching had sent a quick prayer that he wasn't looking at them like so many others did.

They got the curious stares everywhere they went now. Cassie had let the colors fade from her hair and he had begun to cut his short. Gone were the ripped tights and tiny shirts, Cassie had switched to boots and jeans and shirts that were years too old for her. Their attempt to dress him young had given Cassie a good a laugh in Pensacola when they had gone in the Hollister to find him clothes.

Nothing helped; he still looked too old and she still looked too young. Nick couldn't worry about that now. He jumped onto the dock and reached her in three quick steps.

"Cassie," he took her arms and ducked down to see her face, whatever she had Seen had absolutely terrified her. Pulling her in tight he hugged her close, trying to rub warmth into her back, it was warm during the days already, but the mornings were cool by the water and she wasn't wearing a coat.

Finally he felt her react, felt her arms come up around his waist and hold him tightly. Nick felt the tightness around his heart ease, as her powers grew so did the risk that whatever she Saw might be too horrible to come back from; one more thing he had to fear and there wasn't anything he could do to stop it.

Except be there, here, and holding her so close he could admit he didn't want to let go; he pushed those thoughts far, far to the side.

"Can you tell me," he asked, leaning back enough to look at her.

Cassie looked up, those blue eyes still hazy with fear, but she blinked, he watched as she fought for focus and felt his pride grow; she was so strong.

"There's a severed bit of cable, pollution," her voice has that dreamy quality it gets when remembering, Nick has always preferred her badly drawn images over this.

"It gets caught in that," Cassie points to the boat, more specifically the propeller, Nick looks, sees that Crowley is watching too, but there's nothing to be done about that now.

"The storm comes in today, not tomorrow, it's early, the temperature and the wind, it's early," Nick knows it's going to be bad, can hear it in the roll of her words.

"Rocks and wood and water, so much water," her eyes have tears in them when she looks up at him, "you die today, you both die because it's early and I was late."

Nick sucks in a rough breath, it's the first time she's Seen it, and they had danced around the issue, never really talking about the possibility. There was never a good time to talk about dying, to talk about her Watching one or both of them die. Nick's amazed that it's taken so long for it to happen.

"Cassie," he tries to get her to see him, her eyes are unfocused, "Cassie look at me," he might have shaken her a bit, nothing to rough, but she needed to look at him not See him.

"I'm here Cassie, alive, I'm alive and I'm not going on the boat," Nick insisted and maybe it was the grip he had on her arms, there would be bruises tomorrow, or the tone of his voice but she stopped Seeing him and finally looked.

"Nick," his name was a sob and he pulled her in tight as the tears came. Nick managed to get his arms under her legs a second before she fell. Panic easing into him, he didn't know what to do, where to go.

"Here boy," Crowley grumbled.

Turning Nick saw that Crowley was on the dock and pointing towards one of the dry docked boats. The yard was scattered with boats in perpetual state of repair or in need of winter boarding. The boat Crowley was climbing on board was a sleek thirty foot that Nick knew had been repossessed by the bank last summer. Crowley loved to share the tales of the 'young bastards' from the western shore who bought big and couldn't pay what they owed.

Nick was surprised when Crowley headed into the cabin, technically the bank owned the boat but it looked like Crowley had spent a few nights on board rather. The bow was lined with bench seating so Nick took a seat, Cassie's sobs had quieted but her head was still pressed against his neck.

What could he say? Nick thought over this exact scenario dozens of times, but none of the comforting thoughts were coming to him now. Cassie had Watched him die, he couldn't imagine seeing her die, his stomach rolled at the thought, what words would fix that?

Instead he held her close, rubbing her back, smoothing back her hair, physical contact was what he would want, to feel and know that she was OK.

Crowley emerged from the cabin with a bottle of water and a blanket, both of which Nick took with gratitude. There would have to leave again, head back to their motel and pack up, Nick supposed they could steal a car, something to get them out of the state and be gone by nightfall.

Nick didn't want to leave and he knew Cassie didn't want to either, but it couldn't be helped.

"Dreams are funny like that aren't they," Nick looked up as Crowley spoke, "they can scare the life out of you."

Nick nodded not fully understanding where the conversation was headed but certainly not ready to give up on their situation just yet, something in Crowley's voice had given him hope.

"Sometimes though dreams can do just the opposite," Crowley looked down at Cassie and his thoughts were clear on his face, he believed her words.

Explaining anything wasn't an option it was a risk he wasn't going to take with any of their lives, but if Crowley wanted to think that Cassie was a little bit psychic Nick wasn't going to correct him.

They didn't go out that day or the next, and when the boat did head back onto the water it was with a new passenger.

Cassie had taken to the water like a bird to flight. Her addition to their crew had eased Nick's concerns and improved Crowley's attitude. Helping where she could Cassie had begun to smile more and even laugh on occasion.

Not long after they had settled into a routine Crowley had offered up an old houseboat he had won in card game. There were as many patches of dry rot as there were sea worthy boards but Cassie had fallen instantly in love with it and Nick could appreciate the lack of rent.

Life had moved onto the river in the Mid-Atlantic. Nick watched as the sun set and smiled, Cassie was cursing the hot plate, willing it to heat faster. They were happy, safer than they had been in months.

He wondered when the bottom was going to fall out.


End file.
